Then There Were Four
by Blue Lending
Summary: This story takes place in Disk One, right after Zidane, Steiner, Garnet, and Vivi escape from Evil Forest's petrification. What follows is their first night together after they've become thrust into each others' company and covers Zidane as he mourns and processes Blank's death.


_(Thank you so much "The Overscore" for your very thoughtful and kind review! It means a lot to me)_

**Please note: I do not own anything belonging to Final Fantasy IX. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and in no way is meant to be an infringement on copyright laws**

Then There Were Four

Blank was dead.

Hacked from Zidane like a limb.

Night.

Steiner had insisted they set up camp when they were about a half a mile from the forest. Garnet had been in his arms the whole escape, her body limp from the poison, face pale and sickly.

"The princess needs rest," he'd barked when Zidane had refused to stop. "We're not sleeping so close to that goddamn thing!" Zidane had pointed to the petrified forest in the distance. "I'm not carrying the princess any further, we're safe here," Steiner raised his voice, laying her down. "I don't want to have to look at that place all night," Zidane's shoulders were stiff as he cast fiery eyes on the forest. Vivi had attempted to extinguish their anger, but his voice was small and hesitant and their screaming easily drowned him.

Steiner had won.

When the argument had diffused, Vivi used the silence as an entry point to pacify them. "It's okay. I can help," he'd kept saying. He'd volunteered to set up the tent, but he kept tripping over the ropes and canvas, so the forest moogle, who had barely escaped with them, also offered to help.

Zidane could hear the two as they worked, struggling over which piece connects where and how to drive a stake in the ground. They'd made a makeshift campsite, logs as chairs. Zidane sat, hands laced together in feint prayer, chin resting on knuckles, thinking. Across from him-Steiner, next to the knight-the unconscious princess-between the three of them, a fire Vivi had lit with his curious magic.

The flames buried Steiner's eyes in shadow, filling the sockets. The knights eyes were more vicious than the sword at his waist, eyes pointed sharp and accusing at Zidane. The flickering light outlined Steiner's features to feel exaggerated as his concern.

"No no, kupo. That part goes there."

Zidane flicked his eyes to Vivi and the moogle as they fumbled with the tent, checking their progress.

"I hope you know this is all your fault," Steiner growled, his eyes hadn't left Zidane for a moment. Zidane sighed and stood. Steiner clutched the princess. "Don't come too close," he warned-a guard dog at his finest.

"Do you guys need help?" Zidane called. "Yes, kupo!" the moogle called back. "You couldn't help anyone, you useless buffoon," Steiner clipped and Zidane left the fire. The moogle waddled over to him. "I'm no good at tents, kupo. I'm a musician, really."

Zidane squatted, eye-level to marble eyes. "What's your instrument?" The moogle produced a bronze flute. "Why don't you get warm and play something?" Zidane smiled, too wide to be sincere, but the moogle didn't notice. "Yes! I'm very good, kupo," his pom pom bounced as he strode to the fire.

Zidane approached Vivi slowly, still unsure what to make of this curious character with his bright eyes and featureless face. "How's it coming?"

Vivi's hat dipped as he looked at his shoes. "I can't get anything right," Vivi's voice as much of a runt as himself. "You kiddin'? You make the best fires I've ever seen!" Zidane waited for Vivi to look up, but Vivi only shifted his feet, eyes trained to the ground. "Here," Zidane grabbed a pole and Vivi followed his instructions.

The moogle curled his paws around the flute and Steiner listened to the melody, Garnet a tight ball at his side. Her eyes opened-dull and murky-when the music began. "Where are we?" her voice a breath. "Princess," Steiner leaned over her, keeping his voice a frantic whisper. "We're safe-are you alright? What do you need?" "Where?" she sighed and closed her eyes and melted to sleep again. _Nowhere good._ Steiner eyed Zidane as he and Vivi drove stakes in the ground._ Nowhere good._

The tent was sturdy and when the wind blew, stood firm. Zidane and Vivi returned to the fire. "Did...did she wake up yet?" Vivi asked. "Not at all," Steiner scowled at Zidane. "Master Vivi, now that the bedding is secure I believe it's time for us to retire." The moogle stopped playing. "Yeah, I'm beat," Zidane said. "_Not_ you," Steiner put a hand to the hilt of his sword. "You sleep out here you...you...hooligan!"

"Hooligan?" Zidane rolled the word, then his eyes, and smirked. "Is that really the best you can come up with?" Steiner blinked, his face turning rosy and he shifted where he stood, seeming suddenly unsure what to do with his hands.

"Come, Master Vivi," Steiner gingerly lifted Garnet and approached the tent. Vivi looked between Zidane and Steiner. "It's okay, Vivi. I'll be fine," Zidane said and smiled. Vivi nodded and peeled back the tent flap. "Oh," Vivi stopped, "Do you want...to come to?" he turned to the moogle. "No, kupo. I sleep in the trees," and the moogle flapped and disappeared in a rustle of leaves, leaving one boy and a fading fire pit.

Then his false smile collapsed, as did he.

The ground was hard and he couldn't find a good position. His thoughts perched on his shoulders like heavy birds.

Blank was dead.

His back faced the forest, but the eyes of that place were on him. Something inside him, deep in his ribs, knew he wasn't going to get any sleep with that place so close. He'd moved on his side, his back, his stomach, but always the petrified forest had made a home in his head. "Dammit," Zidane pressed his palms into the dirt and stood. His tail flicked, agitated. "Fine."

He walked like a dream, to the clogged entrance of the stone forest in the distance. As he approached, everything about the place felt wrong. There were the shapes of delicate leaves, and sloping, groping vines but all in stone. The strangest part was the smell-there was none. No sweet fragrance of flowers or vegetation. Only the petrified and the person after.

The vines had become so thick they formed a solid mass of stone, like a wall. He took in a breath.

Lifted his hand.

Paused.

Lifted further, then dropped it to his side.

Lifted again.

Rapt a gentle knuckle against the wall. He heard the soft thump and nothing else.

Lifted his hand again, but paused.

Zidane grimaced and swore at himself. He turned and began walking back.

Four steps. Six. Eight. Twelve-and then something in him splintered. He whipped around and ran back to the petrified forest, swinging his hand high and pounded the wall over and over.

"Blank! Goddamn it!"

There had to be a knock back, a voice saying_ I'm okay, I just need to get out of here, idiot._ Then the smirk and appearance of him. And then they'd laugh, say it was a close one, and chalk it up to another adventure to get drunk to and tell it until it wasn't frightening anymore.

They could laugh about this one a long time, talk about it so much Ruby would roll her eyes and tell them to get over themselves. But when his knuckles bled and there was no answer, he knew there would be no story.

First, that understanding. Then, the tears. One after another and then his back was pressed to the wall, legs curled to his chest, tail wrapping him, and wild sobs no one would hear over drinks.

Blank had joined their band early on, but when he did, he was mystery embodied. He'd never told anyone where he came from, just that he joined because he needed the gil. He'd never even told them his name. It was only a few days in when Baku had finally gotten frustrated with his silence and yelled, "No name, huh? Just call him Blank then ahahaha...ah ah...achoo!"

And so it stuck. But now the band would never be the same. His seat at the table now as blank as his name.

The moon was well overhead and Zidane was still there.

"Remember when we laced Baku's beer with sleeping drought and snuck those girls in the ship?" He could almost hear Blank laugh. "Ruby got so pissed I thought she was gonna deck us herself. Still can't believe she never told anyone about that. Or even before we met Ruby and had to sneak into the duke's palace and you had to dress in silk and pretend to be my 'proper lady.' I don't think you've ever scowled harder-and when I'd tried to hold your hand for effect!" Zidane laughed. "I just remember your voice getting real low and you just said, 'don't'. We probably should have used me since you're taller. Or that time we drank in the cabin while waiting for the others to get back from a job. We got so wasted we missed our cue, and Baku had to fly the ship himself while we threw our guts up over the side of the theater ship. Remember it took the bruises weeks to heal, he'd punched us so hard.

Zidane laughed and closed his eyes, pressing his skull against the vine-wall. He could imagine Blank:_ You were the one who had the idea_

"I did."

_If it weren't for you, Baku would probably have a lot lower blood pressure._

"I'm good at what I do. But things were so much more fun when we could tag team it, right?"

_Yeah, nobody else pissed me off as much, though._

Sorry.

_Don't apologize, it's weird._

That girl, she's cute but she wasn't worth this. She's not just a princess anymore, not just a woman-she's the heist that changed everything.

_Then get off your ass and deal with it._

How the hell am I supposed to lead these guys? That knight can't lead his own head, let alone the princess and that kid.

_It's your job now, dumbass._

I didn't think I'd have to schlep this whole heist on my own back.

_Yes you did. That's how you like it. You always want to rescue the pretty girls. Prove me wrong._

The rims of his eyes watered. "I want to prove you back to life."

_You could quit, you know. Go back to Baku and tell him the save-the-princess mission was a fiasco and that you want to come home._

Zidane stared into the night, cheeks glazed, layers of acceptance burying him.

She woke to birds.

The first of them had perched on the tent and their songs filled her. She sat up, the blankets falling to her lap. Vivi and Steiner were breathing heavily. She quietly peeled the blankets from her and stepped into the morning.

There was a ghost of a fire pit, smoke curling from under a few remaining charred twigs.

And there he was, tail tucked between his legs, asleep next to it. He woke to her perfume, a smell of royalty, femininity, otherness. But the smell was faint, and getting fainter, in what aspects, he wasn't sure.

He sat up and looked into her face. "Hi," she said, as if she hadn't expected him to wake. "I'm feeling a lot better. Were you cold sleeping out here?"

Zidane smiled, too wide to be fake. "I think I'll be okay."

_End._

_Thank you so much for reading! Please review, your thoughts are important!_


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